Michael cried all the time, and Kendall was constantly changing his diapers. He seemed to never sleep more than ten minutes at a time and Kendall was utterly exhausted.
Then one morning, she woke up with the sun streaming into her bedroom.
“Michael!” she cried and ran over to her baby’s tiny room.
Michael was fast asleep, his tiny fists under his chin, looking like an absolute angel. Kendall couldn’t believe her son had slept all night without feeding or wetting his diaper!
Then she noticed that the bottle she’d prepared for his night feed was empty and his diaper was clean and dry.
“That’s so weird!” she said to herself. “Did I feed and change him in my sleep?”
That night, Michael didn’t cry again, and when Kendall woke up in the morning, he was fed and dry and sleeping peacefully. “This is getting really creepy!” Kendall thought. “Maybe I was sleepwalking or something.
Tonight I’m not sleeping!”
Kendall lay awake waiting for the slightest sound from Michael’s room, and at three in the morning, she heard a soft cry followed by hushed sounds of someone’s voice
Her breath caught in her throat.
Someone was in Michael’s room.
Heart pounding, Kendall slid out of bed as quietly as possible, creeping toward the nursery. The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, she saw a shadowed figure standing over Michael’s crib.
A soft, soothing voice whispered, “Shh, little one. You’re safe.”
Kendall’s hands trembled. She wanted to scream, to grab something—anything—to defend her baby. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the nightlight, she finally saw the figure’s face.
Her jaw dropped.
It was her mother.
The mother who had died a year ago.
Kendall gasped, and the figure turned slowly.
For a split second, she thought she was hallucinating.
But then…
Her mother smiled.
Kendall’s breath hitched. “M-Mom?”
Her mother nodded, her form shimmering like mist in the moonlight.
“I couldn’t stay away,” she whispered. “Michael needs me. And so do you.”
Tears blurred Kendall’s vision. “But… how? Why?”
Her mother reached out, but her hand flickered, translucent. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. You needed rest. I couldn’t let you break yourself trying to do this alone.”
A sob caught in Kendall’s throat. “You’ve been… taking care of him?”
Her mother nodded.
Michael let out a tiny sigh, nestling deeper into his blanket.
Kendall’s heart ached. She had missed her mother so much.
She took a step forward, whispering, “Are you… are you staying?”
Her mother gave a sad smile. “Not forever. But for now… just until you’re strong enough.”
Kendall choked back a sob.
She wanted to hold her. To never let her go.
But as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, her mother’s form began to fade.
“Mom, wait!”
Her mother’s voice was barely a whisper now.
“I love you, sweetheart. You’re doing just fine.”
And then?
She was gone.
Kendall stood there, staring at the empty space, her heart full and shattered all at once.
She didn’t know if she’d ever see her mother again.
But one thing was certain.
She wasn’t alone.